<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429</id><updated>2011-07-14T17:40:36.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Confessions</title><subtitle type='html'>A Collection Of Short storys, and writings by Adam Scharf</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-3135155664440173486</id><published>2007-03-24T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T11:29:47.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Henry David Thoreaus Walden, The Missing Chapter</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;                  Recently historians have found the missing chapter to Thoreaus classic, Walden...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sat in my small cabin I reflect of my times in these woods. It has been long and hard living on my own, but for the most part it has been most amusing. Often I awake with the sun greeting my face, or a young moose singing Tangerine. Flowers bloom, birds sing, and a deer gracefully comes in my room and stands there. For a deer is only capable of prancing and the room was far too small for such business. I send my parents a letter today, in which I explained that I have no wishes to see them, " Please leave a sandwich under the Towns golden bell, and if there is not a golden bell, please persuade the town to build one". After the letter I took a swim in the pond, when I went to dry off I realized my clothes where indeed missing again. These thieves seem to attack in the night, for today I woke up with my stove missing, my gardened ruined, and my bed sheets changed. I fear that they will attack again, I will take them hostage, but I wont be fooled like last time. When they told me that they where going for a car ride but there wasn’t enough seat belts for everyone. My loneliness has ceased to exist this week, at times however It has been very difficult. I had one visitor who was lost in the woods, I asked him if he needed a place to stay, he shook his head no while continuously saying yes, I became so confused I began to hemorrhage. I miss the contact of people, but I am grateful for my time with myself. I have come up with many new philosophies, for instance, why do we have more than one room in our house, when we can only be in one room at a time. Also, why do radio DJ’s sometime say the artist name before the song, when we all prefer it after. I explained my theory to a wandering traveler who responded by staring at me for 47 minutes. The night grows long in the summer, the stars shimmer and flirt with my wandering eye. The moon seduces the romantic, the breeze cools the gentle beast, and the citrus of the orange burns my left eye resulting in faulty depth perception which becomes apparent when handing out communion at church. I think of child birth today, how wonderful it would be to someday have a child of my own, certainly not in these conditions. For a child must be developed in society, for I am afraid he would be lost. It seems we need others to define who we truly are, also who would tell him his blinker is still on while driving. Suddenly a thought did come to me, a startling thought that has awoken new inspiration. What if there is no beginning to life, what if we just are. What if there was no beginning to the world, we just think there was. Does that mean there will be no end? What if we don’t really die, if that is the case then I am invincible. No god can punish me, no man can wound me. I truly am invincible, and I also am really rubber, and you are really glue, and whatever you throw bounces off me and sticks to you. But that would mean we all are invincible sense we are all here, so you are rubber as well, so whatever you throw at me bounces off me and then bounces off you, and we just keep going back and forth until someone really is glue, then they would take whatever you throw, it would stick to them, then they would realize they too are invincible and become rubber, but if we all are rubber then we would all just keep bouncing. On the plus side however the practice of safe sex would increase. But that could lead to a severe decrease in the population then there will be no more children. So you know what, forget I even mentioned it. I realized today that when I live on my own I am a great king of my domain, I rule all I see. I am fair and kind, yet rule with an iron fist. Much like the great kings of our day such as King Henry 3rd, or king Louie, certainly not King Marlo, he ruled with an iron fist but his servants often took his favorite seat at the dinner table. Life sure does present troubles, most of which are created from society, perhaps society is not so bad, for we are conditioned from it. Tomorrow I will consider the possibility of moving back, also I still need a sandwich.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-3135155664440173486?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/3135155664440173486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=3135155664440173486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/3135155664440173486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/3135155664440173486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2007/03/henry-david-thoreaus-walden-missing.html' title='Henry David Thoreaus Walden, The Missing Chapter'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-2493172391120389824</id><published>2007-03-03T20:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T20:49:07.335-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Robert Flashery has just been told he has 13 days to live...</title><content type='html'>How can this be, I was perfectly healthy, I was happy, I was living life to the fullest. Now im doomed, my life will come to an end in 13 days. I don’t deserve it, I have been good person. Although there was a phase in my youth in which I use to break into peoples houses and change their bed sheets when they where sleeping. I like to think I’ve treated people with ease, and kindness, I’ve been extremely patient as well. Others have also treated me well, showing me kindness, and pleasant conversations. There was a time however when I woke up to find my favorite lawn gnome gone and replaced with and old Native American. I must speak to god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Robert: Hello god, are you there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t deserve this, I am a good person, I wonder what death is like? My friend was once in a car accident, he says he died for a few seconds then came back to life. He told me Heaven was great, however there was a unfortunate shortage of measuring cups. I don’t want to die of an illness, I want to go like one of the greats. My friend Albert, he died last year in his kitchen. He accidently put rat poison in his chili. I will never forget his last words when he looked up at me and whispered , " I never liked the cabinet space". I just hope when I die, it will be quick, and painless, Im sure its awkward having long deaths, such as a quick sand encounter. I hope there is a god, I grew up catholic, and I always use to believe in it. The local priest once told me if I did not believe in god I would be banished to hell and restricted from having Missouri citizenship.&lt;br /&gt;Once the doctor told me this tragic news, I started to think of all the things I have yet to accomplish in my life. I’ve always wanted to sky dive, oh, and I’ve always wanted to go on a real romantic date. For instance take a beautiful women to a great little ethnic restaurant, the only ethnic place I’ve ever been to was tragic. For the main course, they served Viking. I’ve often thought about inventing something, something that would change the course of man. Such as a machine that could calibrate, the exact moment the world would end. For my first grade science project the only invention I could come up with was an gasoline powered utensil which accidently attacked my science teacher. Leaving her with no fine motor skills, and the surprising ability to fold her tongue like a clover. She then was married to a baseball player she met in a bar who was so impressed with her ability, that he was going to ask her for her hand in marriage. Unfortunately the baseball player tried to be creative and pitch the ring too her while saying, " This aint no curve ball baby", and due to her poor motor skills could not catch the ring and was blinded in one eye.&lt;br /&gt;I guess ill never be able to meet the president, or meet an established war veteran. The only unique person I ever met was apart of an odd gamma ray incident, in which his hair was left half curly, and half sour cream. I guess life is just too strange to not enjoy, so I will just have to suck it up, and die peacefully. Good bye cruel world, this is Robert Flashery, wishing all a good day, and good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-2493172391120389824?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/2493172391120389824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=2493172391120389824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/2493172391120389824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/2493172391120389824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2007/03/robert-flashery-has-just-been-told-he.html' title='Robert Flashery has just been told he has 13 days to live...'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-2944680637808200777</id><published>2007-02-26T17:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T17:54:52.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Help wanted, Writers Block</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;HELP, I need help. I am a journalist and I have massive writers block. I no longer feel like I can write on my own, I am writing this letter in hopes someone will help me!!! I’ve tried getting help from other people. I went to this one Professor who seemed to know how to cure the block. I trusted him and worked with him tirelessly on reports but he had a unique style of teaching. I stopped going after he placed a red lobster biscuit on my head and strangled my second cousin named Robert which we all called sal due to a bizarre book club incident in which half of his tongue was amputated and he can no longer pronounce Robert. I even went to a library to read as much as I could, I met a wonderful Librarian, she was sweet yet she had a suspicious haircut. She eventually called the cops on me when I kept starring at her chest and preceded to act like I didn’t know what time it was. Luckily I was not arrested for the police department was still grieving over the untimely death of their favorite pogonia. My favorite type of journalism is to cover crimes, that was my forte. I once won an award for my article on a local murderer who would attach skiis and a blindfold to his victims and send them down a rocky mountain side. To cover his crime he also attached a sign to the victims that read, " I thought it was the bunny hill". It managed to fool cops for a while, but it quickly ended when the murderer used the same sign during a drowning. I also did some undercover work, I once admitted myself into a jail to get the real experience. It was nice, I enjoyed the working out time, the food, and the forced coloring sessions. Basically I need that kind of creative stimulation, If you can help me, perhaps give me some techniques, it would be greatly appreciated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-2944680637808200777?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/2944680637808200777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=2944680637808200777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/2944680637808200777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/2944680637808200777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2007/02/help-wanted-writers-block.html' title='Help wanted, Writers Block'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-115656014612084644</id><published>2006-08-25T19:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-25T19:42:26.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Info Commercial</title><content type='html'>Hello, my name is Sherman T. Booker, and boy do I have an offer for you. In just a few minutes, you can own Sherman T. Bookers tips for love. You heard me right folks. All you have to do is pick up the phone now, ill give you a whole book full of useless information, like this,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When approaching a female at a bar, simply go up to them and smile and offer them something, rather it be a drink, mint, or date rape drug, this approach will rarely fail".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, that was amazing, and you can have that information, and a bunch more. Still not convinced, well how about this advice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the female you are trying to pursue decides to walk away, it might be a good idea to follow her to her car, even to her house if necessary. If she does not answer her phone, or the door, its now time to look in her windows. Once looking through her windows, this may be the time to show her that you have a sense of humor, and that you are witty. If she happens to be overweight, it is always encouraged to continuously point that out to her. Use a line like, " Maybe you should get lipo suction honey, ill call the butcher". Or maybe sneak in her house and make eggs that read, " Yeah, just keep on eating this, its going to make you look great". Either way, its going to be humorous, and she will instantly fall in love with you. If you do score a date, which I know you will, take her to a romantic place, if you still live at home with your parents, maybe you should get a job and stop being so lazy, oh im just kidding, but seriously. Take that girl of your dreams to a nice little restaurant, and always remember, let her pay the check, and always open the door for yourself, let her know that you are the independent type, make her believe chivalry is still dead. At the end of the date, a popular move is to kiss her goodnight, why don’t you show her that your not the cliche Romeo, and give her a nice firm slap on the ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you buy now we will also throw in, " How to deal with a break up". This is a popular video that teaches you the logical, and mature way to handle a break up. For example it’s a good idea to call her 17 times an hour, or take a less involved approach and take pictures of her while she is sleeping. If you are the creative type, you may want to cover your house in pictures of her, and make collages of her as you slowly loose your grip on reality. I will also teach you alternatives, as in instead of crying yourself to sleep, why not try to win her back. This can be done by trying to get with her mother, or take her sister hostage and demand to be paid in sausages. If you really want to win her back, try talking to her, and If she starts to raise her voice, let her know who’s boss by beating her senseless with a baseball bat. In no time you will sweep her off her feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is a lot to soak in, you must be brimming with excitement, you can have the power to get any girl you want. All this can be yours, I doubt you want to let that girl slip away, so please pick up the phone, you will thank me later.  Call now and get a free sample of our special cologne, it will make you smell like piss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what are you waiting for, call now!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its only 3 million payments of 1 dollar, and if you are not satisfied, We will do you a favor and not send it back to you.  Call now!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-115656014612084644?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/115656014612084644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=115656014612084644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115656014612084644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115656014612084644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/08/info-commercial.html' title='Info Commercial'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-115645036926205583</id><published>2006-08-24T12:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-24T13:16:01.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Was A Stormy Night</title><content type='html'>It was a stormy night, the stormiest night Chicago has ever seen. Rain poured onto the floor like marbles hitting pavement. Wind screamed like howling wolves, and thunder pounded like powerful locomotives. It was a dark atmosphere, you see 26 weary travelers where about to embark on flight 2295, their destination, Connecticut. Their captain, James Pierce, their weather, terrible, David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar, neither.&lt;br /&gt;A young business man by the name of Allen Storesbocker soon entered the plane. He was sharply dressed in an all brown suit, a black derby, and a small umbrella at his side. You see, Alan was on a tight schedule, he needed to make it to Connecticut for a very important business meeting. The passengers sat in their seats, anxious to carry on with their flight. Unlucky business man Allen Storesbocker had the wing seat. The flight began to take off, slowly it drifted into the sky, powerful gust of wind tried to slow the plane down, then the pilot got on the speakers.&lt;br /&gt;" Hello all, this is your captain speaking, James Pierce, I want you to all have a nice flight and I have one testicle".&lt;br /&gt;The plane seemed to relax after a while, and many started to find sleep. Allen on the other hand could find no sleep, for he just had 306 cups of coffee. He needed to take his mind of things, so he opened up the window and starred into the deep dark sky. His eyes seemed to fall into its dark abyss as his mind drifted from star to star. All of a sudden a strange figure started to come in focus. It would seem as if someone was sitting on the wing of the plane. " I must be seeing things", thought Alan. He closed the window and tried to sleep. Then he heard a tapping on the window, he opened it slowly, being careful not to draw attention. He gazed out there and there the figure was again, " Hey pal", Allen whispered to the passenger next to him. " Hey buddy, wake up Sir". " What, what is it?" The passenger slowly came from his deep sleep. " Listen to me, this may sound a bit odd, but I think there is someone, or something on the wing of this plane. I know it sounds crazy, honest I know. Please just take a look, I want to know if im losing my mind or not". The passenger looked at Allen and responded, " sure, ok, but after I want to get some sleep ok?" Allen opened up the window once again, the man looked out and squinted his eyes. " Do you see it?", asked Allen. "No, no I don’t see anything, perhaps you just need to get some rest". The man returned to his sleep position and closed his eyes. Allen then peered out the window himself, and indeed there was nothing there.&lt;br /&gt;"Ms. Oh Ms.? Please get me a pillow, I wish to sleep now". The attendant soon came back with a soft pillow and placed it under Allens head.&lt;br /&gt;" Boy I must be off my rocker, come on Allen get some sleep", he said to himself. Soon he heard thudding, loud thudding coming from his left. He looked all around the plane, then looked out the window. " I see it!" Shouted Allen. He looked at the figure who now appeared to be reading a G Q magezine. " Look, everyone look out my window, there’s something on the wing, there is I tell you, there is!" Many passengers soon looked at the window. " My god, there is something out there". The figure now doing crunches on a medicine ball. An attendant looked at the figure, " I think it looks like a man". A passenger with a large mustache peered out the window. " It is a man". Allen now gazing at the figure, " But who is it?" A women stood up, " It kind of looks like Corey Feldman. " My god it does, it does look like Corey Feldman", said a women. " Oh come on, Corey Feldman?", said a man. The attendant looked out the window, " I think it is him". Soon everyone was looking out the window trying to figure out why Corey Feldman was on the wing of an Air Plane. " Its not Corey Feldman", screamed Allen at the top of his lungs. " Listen, I think we should tell the pilot".&lt;br /&gt;The pilot then came out of the cock pit, " What is everyone yelling about"? An attendant approached him, " Captain Pierce, this may sound odd, but it appears that there is a creature on the wing". Captain looked puzzled, " Let me have a look". He looked out the window and sure enough there was a figure, who was now riding an exercise bike. " Why, it looks like Corey Feldman". Allen now becoming frustrated, " For heavens sake, its not Corey Feldman"! I think we should talk to it", said an attendant. " By the way captain, no one is flying the plane". The captain then stood up strait and said, " Listen, I think I should go fly the plane, but we need to stay calm, Im sure Mr. Feldman had a good reason for being on the wing of this aircraft".&lt;br /&gt;Allen then sat back in his seat in deep thought, " We need to talk to it", Allen got a piece of paper and a black magic marker and started to write. He held up the sign to the window which read, "Who are you". A few minutes later the figure held up a sign that said, " I like corn on the cob". Allen wrote another one which said, " Please, Who are you?" The figure then held up a sign that said, " You can dance If you want to, you can leave you friends behind...". Allen now very frustrated screamed at the figure, " Show yourself!". The figure then proceeded to clip his toenails.&lt;br /&gt;" I don’t know what kind of creature that is sir, but I don’t think it likes you", said a man. "Enough, im going to get to the bottom of this", Allen then went to the back of the air craft where he could think. He locked himself in the bathroom and thought. First he thought about the passengers, then he thought about the creature on the wing, then he looked at the razor slots in the bathroom and wondered if people actually shave in these things. Once he got a plan, he opened up the door at returned to his seat, once there he looked at his fellow passengers and noticed that they where dressed in Michael Jackson outfits. " Listen up people, we are going to have to fly the air plane upside down, we need that thing to be off. Everyone get back in their seats, and strap that seat belt on very tightly". Then a man interrupted, " but the light isn’t on." Allen then looked at him, " It does not matter, you need to put it on". Allen then walked into the cockpit, the pilot was busy playing connect four. " Captain, listen to me. You have to fly the plane upside down, we need that creature to fall off. " I suppose that is the only way. The altitude looks pretty good, and so does the height. Tell everyone to hold on tight and buckle in, and that Green apple Jolly ranchers taste bad". Allen then went to his seat and strapped in tight, he looked at the window. The figure was starring at him. He plane slowly began to drift upside down. " This will do it", Allen said to himself. The plane was almost completely upside down. On wing, the figure was coloring, he began to realize that the plane was going upside down and appeared to start swearing. Little by little, the creature could not hang on. Eventually he let go and the plane went back to its upright position. " WE DID IT", screamed Allen. Everyone began to clap and cheer, Allen stood and said, " Its over, now lets get to Connecticut, and forget this every happened".&lt;br /&gt;Finally the plane reached its destination, and everyone exited the plane. " Glad that is over", Allen then got his bags and exited the plane. He breathed in a sigh of relief and got into a taxi. " Take me to the red roof in". The taxi driver then turned around, " No, this cant be, no!" The creature was driving the taxi ( How predictable was that, clearly the story wasn’t over cause there is so much writing on this page). "Listen , pull over, now, do it now. I bet you don’t even have a licence". The creature drove the car to an old cave, and shut off the car and got out. Then realizing he left his lights on went back in and shut them off. " Get out!" Allen then got out of the car. " Don’t hurt me". The creature then sat down at a table with drinks all over it. " Do you think its easy? Do you think its easy being a creature who sits on wings, everybody thinks im that creature in the twilight Zone episode, well im not, I just happen to sit on wings of planes, is that so wrong? By the way your not leaving here". Allen needed to think of a plan, he first thought he would fight is way out, but then he realized that the creature was stronger than he. He then started to have the creature say all his problems and pour him drinks. Eventually the creature became intoxicated and the two had a really nice time. They laughed and talked about old times, Once Allen laughed so hard milk came out of his nose, which was odd for he was drinking orange juice. The creature stood up and looked at Allen and started to weep. " What am I doing, I should not be doing this, please, you can leave". Allen then stood up and said, " ok". Allen walked away, first he felt happy, then he felt depressed, then he felt noshes for milk was still coming out of his nose. Allen looked at the creature and stated, " Ill visit you again, Perhaps you can come on more planes".&lt;br /&gt;On Allen went, on his walk back to the red roof inn, he reflected on his experience. " Maybe the creature who sits on wings of air planes is a good thing, he is not so bad". He concluded that everyone needs love, and that it may be tough being different, but sometimes its ok to be the one on the wing of an air plane, even though your hat would keep blowing off. He also realized that he did kind of look like Corey Feldman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-115645036926205583?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/115645036926205583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=115645036926205583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115645036926205583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115645036926205583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/08/it-was-stormy-night.html' title='It Was A Stormy Night'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-115619542032457303</id><published>2006-08-21T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-21T14:23:40.350-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Medical Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Mrs. Smith&lt;/em&gt;:  Hello, are you the Doctor who operated on my husband? How is he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Doctor Roberts&lt;/em&gt;:  Hello Mrs. Smith, I am doctor Roberts, and I am the doctor who worked on your husband.  He is a terrific man miss, and I did everything I could, I slaved over his body, using all that modern medicine could give. He is alive, and with god willing, he will be around for many more years to come.  Your husband is very much responsive, and my guess he will be ready to depart from this hospital in approximately two weeks.  Now when he does eventually come home, I want you to know that he is very much a normal man, and should be treated as if this whole ordeal never happened, do you understand me?  Treat him as if he is still a normal happy go lucky guy.  The same man you fell in love with those many years ago.  Now listen to me Mrs. Smith, though the surgery was a success, and he is alive. There are some minor side effects and extra precautions you must now take into serious consideration, though these precautions and side effects are minor, they may slightly change your life, and you must learn to adapt around these misfortunes.  Now, first side effect he will be experiencing is lack of vision, this should clear up in 2 to 3 months. Also he will start to lose hair on his body, im afraid it might never grow back. He may also have bladder trouble, all you need to do is simply keep a bed pan around him at all times.  Dry eyes is another side effect, and so is making lots of Star Jones jokes. Also your husband may pretend to be a bunny rabbit, this is very normal and can be dealt by simply dressing as a horse and shaking you hoof at him.  He can also experience dry mouth, just keep feeding him ice chips, and make sure that he is taking lots of liquids. You should also know that he may seem different, almost as if he is another person. He could come home and act like his sister, or best friend, or even Carl Winslow, the lovable cop and father in the sit-com, "Family Matters".  You also may find him crawled up in a corner wearing a chicken costume singing &lt;em&gt;My Heart Will Go On&lt;/em&gt;, this im afraid is the most common side effect.  He also will take a strong liking to sheep shearing, and occasionally will walk around the house speaking Yiddish.  Please understand Mrs. Smith, you need to love him, love is the most effective medicine these days, always has been, and always will. Oh, and I almost forgot. You also need to read him the great Gatsby every time he clips his toe nails. Oh, and I accidently put a box of Lorna dunes inside your husbands liver, it was my mistake. You see a nurse came up to me with a cup of apple juice while I was operating. I though it was a urine sample and I accidently cut open you husbands stomach and opened up his liver, I went to the store and purchased a box of lorna dunes and placed it inside. Oh, and he can only attend football games dressed as Benjamin Franklin.  I hope you can live with this, think of it as a blessing. Goodbye Mrs. Smith, and im sure he wont need to be circumcised again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mrs. Smith&lt;/em&gt;: ................ok.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-115619542032457303?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/115619542032457303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=115619542032457303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115619542032457303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115619542032457303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/08/medical-report.html' title='Medical Report'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-115593231593499102</id><published>2006-08-18T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-19T08:52:31.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The True Adventures Of Lewis And Clark</title><content type='html'>Lewis and Clark where riding through a deadly desert. Lewis was sitting on the other side of the wagon, for Clark had a terrible cold which caused him to loose control of his right arm. As the wagon traveled it rocked and jumped. Eventually the sand became too deep, and the wagon could go no further. They continued their expedition on foot, both felt the staggering presence of paranoia, for they knew they where being followed. Being followed by a man named koobawa, who had a passion for Gazebos. They first saw Koobawa when they came across his tribe of cannibals. They managed to escape by Tip Toeing away while singing Desperado. This was better then the last time they had to escape, in which Clark dressed as a tree. It took longer for him to escape for the Tribe liked the tree so much they used it as a Christmas tree. Luckily they weren’t like those people who take down the tree in July, it was shortly taken down in January. Clark had not been recognized, it was suspicious however when there was a party and the tree flirted with some of the females. The Tree was soon arrested for sexual harassment, he was released shortly on good behavior. When he returned to the tribe as a tree they all welcomed him, and one of the females fell in love with the tree and they soon became married. After their second child Clark revealed to her that he was not a tree and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koobawa was following them because he knew that they where going to see if spirits where still in the tomb of Derrick. Lewis and Clark took a break from walking and sat on a log. Lewis was becoming hot, the sun was blazing and it didn’t help that there was a small Korean man sitting on his lap. He quickly shooed him away and took a swig of water. " Im so hungry", said Clark. Clark then gazed at Lewis, who suddenly turned into a drum stick in Clark’s mind. Then Lewis gazed at Clark and he turned into a piece of bacon. Then Koowaba gazed at Lewis, but he turned into nothing cause Koowba is a Cannibal, and that my friends is terrible imagery. Clark soon came to wonder why there was a log in the middle of the dessert. " WAIT, I know, this log is a marker, we must be getting close to the tomb". " Finally, we are going to see if spirits still roam the Tomb of Derrick, then we can report it to the president, and he can be happy and not pay us enough". "Exactly", Lewis said proudly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On they traveled, deep into the night, and far into the morning. They came up to a big rock which had a large Neon sign that said Derricks Tomb. " This must be it Clark". " My God, it is, it really is". " Lets knock on this door". Lewis then gave a large pound on the door. " Who be there?" said a deep voice. "It is Lewis and Clark". " And Koowaba", he whispers from behind a cactus. " For we are the great explorers of the Louisiana Purchase". The door slowly opened to reveal a small women with a mustache and a mullet that kind of looked like the one that John Stamos had in the first season of Full house, but not really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" This way, we have been expecting you". They slowly crept down a dark corridor which was dimly lit by George Formen grills. They came up to a room, they entered cautiously and sat down in the chairs. For there was not enough chairs for everyone, a brief game of musical chairs soon began. Clark lost, but soon claimed that Koowaba was cheating, he brought up a good point and he got the chair. All the lights in the room shut off quickly and a cool breeze swept the room. A large Spirit soon floated down in front of them. " I am the ghost of Derrick, and this is my tomb. You have already met one of my spirits, the really ugly women, and here is Sean. Sean is a very old spirit who had a hard time adapting from making candles flicker to turning off light switches really fast when electricity was invented. How do you like this"? All of a sudden chains grabbed old of the boys and they where all trapped, water slowly began to leak in. " OH no, what are we going to do"? Said Clark. " Just stay calm, we just have to think". " Great just great, I start to follow you thinking you are great explorers, and look at the mess you have gotten ourselves into". Koowaba screamed. " Stop, Just stop it, we have to think, we still have time to get out of this, just think"! The boys thought long and hard, then Koowaba had a question. " Hey, what ever happened to that Sakajeweya women?" " Well Clark over here kept calling her sack of shit, she eventually got sick of it, and after he said it again she slowly tip toed away while saying the pledge of allegiance". Lewis then starred at Clark, who then stared at Lewis, Koowaba starred at Clark. Then Clark starred at Koowaba. Then Lewis starred at Koowaba, so Koowaba starred at him. " Look! There is a key over there, well at least I think it is, do you see that rock over there, I think it has a key sticking out of it. I think it is, Clark you are the closest, grab it with your feet". " Which rock"? Says Clark. " The one that kind of looks like Donnie Wahlberg". The water now up to their knees and still flowing. Clark gets a hold of the rock with his feat. " You know I don’t like Donnie Wahlberg". " Really"?, said Koowaba. " Yeah, I really don’t like him". The giant spirit soon appeared. " Not like Donnie Wahlberg, how can you not like Donny Wahlberg", Bellowed the spirit in a deep voice. " I don’t know I just don’t, I mean he just does not seem like a proper entertainer". The spirit spoke once again, " But come on, its Marky Mark". The water now up to their belly buttons, and Koowba’s third nipple, Clark needed to move fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clark unlocked himself, then Lewis, and then Koowaba. " Alright Lewis we need to get out of here fast". " Not so fast boys you are not going to go anywhere cause you are going to live with me forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and you are going to be happy and you will enjoy your stay here cause I will make you enjoy it ( Run on sentence). Lewis and Clark seemed to be in a terrible jam, for they where now trapped in the Tomb, with a very large spirit, a really ugly women, a canabal, and ghost named Sean who was now enjoying a roast beef sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Koowaba then screamed, " We are trapped, we are never going to get out of here". The spirit looked at them and started to do a evil laugh, he then began to choke, then resumed the evil laugh. " You will never get out of here!" Soon the chains where back on them, and water once again began to flow in. It would seem as if now the boys where going to die with a cannibal, a ugly women, a big spirit, and a ghost named Sean who was now clipping his toe nails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly a large explosion rang through the tomb. "What was that!", screamed the spirit of Derrick. " Hello my friends". For it was Sakajeweya, here to save the day. " Sack of shit, nice to see you". She then slowly walked away. " NO, he is kidding, come back". She then came back, and carried the three men all at once out of the tomb. She stayed behind and taught the spirits how to grow really large pieces of corn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For another day had passed, and Lewis and Clark could now carry on their adventure. " Hey Lewis, can you believe we got out of this one", said Clark. " It was hard, but we sure had an adventure though right buddy". " We sure did Lewis, we sure did". Then all of a sudden a spirit figure approached and yelled, " Im going to eat you all, you cant escape". " OH no, you stay away", screamed Clark. Then the spirit took of the white sheet to reveal Koowaba. "Gotcha". All the boys laughed, " OH Koowaba, you silly cannibal", he was immediately stabbed. The boys then rode off into the sunset, once again no one sitting next to Clark for he had a new cold in which he could not control the movement of his ears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-115593231593499102?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/115593231593499102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=115593231593499102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115593231593499102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115593231593499102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/08/true-adventures-of-lewis-and-clark.html' title='The True Adventures Of Lewis And Clark'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-115567025930011857</id><published>2006-08-15T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T14:23:28.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking News</title><content type='html'>There was a bank Robbery on 45th avenue today, near the shopping plaza. A man by the name of Sherman Oliver strolled into First Source Bank and politely gave the clerk a piece of paper. The clerk said the paper was written in Spanish, she had took a little bit in highschool so she came to the conclusion that it said, ", This is a Stick up", but she wasn’t sure. So she called over a Spanish Clerk. He read the piece of paper and determined it was upside down. When turned to its proper reading viewing point it did say this is a stick up, and the two had a brief chuckle.&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;    Sherman apparently became frustrated at went crazy, I as a good reporter I did a brief research on this thief. Sherman was not an ordinary man, for Sherman Oliver was an inspiring writer. He slaved over his type writer to compose brilliant work. Sherman walked into an talent agency hoping that he would score a deal for his writings. The talent agent glanced at the sheet and stated, " your never going to make it kid", and slowly ate the piece of paper. Down on life he turned to a life of crime. His first robbery was the circus, he tried to rob a group of ventriloquist but ran away in confusion from not knowing which one was actually talking. Apparently he just kept robbing places from there, including the one today. The robbery today was a brutal one, he took off with $4900 in cold cash. One eye witness said, " I felt as if my life flashed before my eyes". Another witness said, " It was horrible, just horrible", and another witness said, " I wear panties".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Family members said that Sherman was robbing for his lover, Anna Clary. " I just love her mom, I was about to beat her unconscious when she gave me a dirty look, but then she told me her stomach doesnt produce bile, and I just knew she was the one", Sherman said.&lt;br /&gt;Sherman is said to be wearing a Pauley Shore costume In hopes of not ever being noticed again, When asked for comment Pauley Shore stated, " I wear panties", and ran off screaming the shadow people are crazy. Some speculate Sherman will go on a vacation, some say he will break in the bank and put it back and leave a note that said, " Whoops". Who knows what this man will do, but I have found a bit of his memoirs to share with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    " My childhood was normal, and very fruitful. I never really enjoyed education, I tried to be   home schooled for college but wasn’t accepted. My father pushed me into athletics, he said that he wanted me to be an Olympic swimmer, I never really caught on to the sport. It was not that I hated swimming, I loved to go swimming, I just don’t like getting in the water. My father also never supported my writing career. I handed him my first play, Midsummer Nights Wet Dream, he scoffed at my writing and told me I was a bum and began to slowly eat the piece of paper".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Sherman is still on the loose, and the police are asking for all to stay in doors, he could be armed and dangerous, Police say he might be carrying a Herbal Essences shampoo bottle around, and we all know how bad that can sting if it gets in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;That is the breaking news today, thank you for watching, this is Debra Norisberg,  stay tuned for the news at 11:00.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-115567025930011857?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/115567025930011857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=115567025930011857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115567025930011857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115567025930011857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/08/breaking-news.html' title='Breaking News'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-115497657073168921</id><published>2006-08-07T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T14:03:50.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories of father</title><content type='html'>What can I say about my Father, my Father was kind man, a loyal man, a terrific speaker, and a devoted husband who got along with everyone ( I don’t care what anybody says, he was not a racist, he just hated black people). Till this day I still reflect on the moment my Father took me on a fishing trip. I still remember his face when I first hooked something. He was so excited for me, he looked me in the eyes and slowly pulled the hook from his bloody jaw. My Father never complained much, he would however complain about the heat, and the young kids who kept breaking into our home and hanging up pictures of other people. My father had a knack for bicycle riding, he loved to take long rides along the shore, and sometimes even would place the bike on the top of the car to go up to the mountains( that’s how we lost Grandma). He would love to watch thunder storms, and loved to take long walks in sun showers with my Mother. He often would strike up the conversation on how he met Mother. He would say how he was working on his bike when this beautiful women rode in on her bike and crashed into him, she flew over the handlebars. He pulled out the bike chain from his bloody Jaw, She looked into his eyes, he looked into hers, she got a mirror and looked into her eyes, then he got a mirror and looked into her eyes looking into her eyes, and he knew she was the one. She said he was the perfect gentleman, he would hold her hand and pay for diners, sing to her at night, and ask how much she weighed on the weekends. My Father served in Vietnam, he was a drill instructor who wore black plaid striped shirts, he said it was a overall good experience, except for the time he was captured by Vietnamese Soilders who dressed as Vietnamese Tourist. He woke up ten days later in a field with a cow, he said he was physically unharmed, but could now read Heighrogliphics. Once in a while my Father would take mother out on long diners, and sometimes take her on Hot air balloon rides ( Thats how we lost Grandpa). He was so proud of me when I got my first car, as I smiled at him I stepped on the gas petal and ran over a Nun (We spent the Night in Jail).  My Father was a good man,  who loved all of his children dearly(Except Ralph, he had too many freckles).  I will always remeber his last worlds, "  This Wool is Itchy"( He wasnt wearing wool).  I now cherish my memories with Father, I have however repressed many of the Memories, for once in a while he would become drunk and say horrible things like, "Jack Daniels is your Father", or, " Kleenex". I love you Dad...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-115497657073168921?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/115497657073168921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=115497657073168921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115497657073168921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115497657073168921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/08/memories-of-father.html' title='Memories of father'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-115194350925911703</id><published>2006-07-03T09:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T12:53:00.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Are They Now?  The 12 Disciples Edition</title><content type='html'>There once was a group that took the World by storm. Influencing with their best selling book, and sold out shows around the Nation. For these 12 young men formed at a early age, and where apart of a group that made history. The young men are, The 12 Disciples. Many know what happened to their front man, Jesus, but few know the story of the Disciples, so now I give you, Where are They Now: The 12 disciples edition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter: A favorite of the ladies, Peter was a teen idol, even though he wasnt in his teens. Peter felt the urge to shed his bubble gum image and choose to do something much more dangerous. Today he traveles the world and takes fasinating pictures. His most famous picture however is when he was with the group, it’s a picture of Judas kissing Jesus as he says, " Don’t be gay dude". He has also made many discoveries, he discoverd a new type of salamander, with the head of a Salamander and the body of lettuce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James: The elder of the group, has left the business but claims to still have spiritual activity today. He has claimed to have his spirit leave his body, and in some cases his body leave his spirit which proved to be very akward at tennis matches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John- After the Disciples, John is now working in a laboratory, exploring math and science. He had a stint on oprah in which she conducted an experiment to see if placebos worked. However, when John found out the pills he was taking where fake, he became so upset he went home. There he choose to overdose on pills, however, after an hour it became apparent that these too where in fact placebos, and that Oprah is a crazy bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andrew: Andrew Joined a Two Man blues Trio, and fell in love with a girl who had trouble blinking in unison. His rock and roll life style caught up to him, and in late march entered a local rehab center. Today he is happily divorced. When asked what the leading cause of divorce was he responed, " Marriage".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Philip: There is no word on how Phillip is today, because his name is Phil, no one cares about that one, come on, his name is Phill. You don’t see the book of Phil do you? Ofcourse not, its Phil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathanael: He still prophicises today, he often speaks and schools, churches, and clown strikes. His most recent work came out in 2003, in which him and his wife co wrote a brilliant book which touched apon the meaning of life. The Following is an excerpt. " The key to life is very simple. To live a long life, thy must me kind to thy neighbor, love thyself, Cherish quality time with loved ones, and do Heroine. Till this day no one knows what he was talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thomas: A crowd favorite, Thomas was always on the run from crazy fans. So crazy, one of them choose to have plastic surgury to look just like him. Unfornutanly, to this day we still can not tell them apart, so our interview was a bit odd. We do have however one statement each from each Thomas.&lt;br /&gt;Thomas #1: " I believe man should be able to love whoever he desires, whether it be man, or women. As long as they still love god".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thomas #2: " I believe man should be able to love whoever he desires whether it be man, or women. It takes three and a half minutes to make good popcorn".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew: Fell into some trouble with the law after he egged Ponches Pilots House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James: Today he still does some Disciple work, he soon regained fame for not just his work, but his wifes work. His wife was a noble women, who accomplished great deeds of heriosim, her last words on her death bed where, " I should of Slept around More".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jude: Jude was a very meek, and tended to be on the shy side. He eventually became mentally ill, and till this day whever he hears the song American Pie, he dresses as a women.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simon: Simon kept up his disciple work for a while, he later found a passion in taking long expeditions. His most famous one is when he went to the Jungle. His Expedetion was cut short however when he was taken hostage by an Elk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judas: When he Judas quite the group, he was eventually replaced by a shorter, more older man. He was quickly kicked out due to the fact that his sermons contained no intelligence at all. He also had an annoying catch phrase, " Who Done it, am I right?!". This catch phrase proved to be comical at certain moments, but failed to amuse at Funerals. " OH man, this guy is laying dead in this here box, can anyone give him a cough drop, cause he wont stop coffin, Who done it, am I right?" He was stabbed shortly after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All Disciples are still in contact today, and still get together every year to dive into past memories, swim in their old success, and laugh about old times. like the time when the cat crawled under the deck and Simons granmda went go get and and they never saw her again. Or the time Peter became so drunk he went on a rampage in church, preaching about wine, and how mexicans have no nipples. And who could forget the time at the last supper when they all sat on the same side of the table cause Judas had gas. For now the group will stay broken up, but perhaps some day they will all meet again, it could happen in the near future, especially if this world war three buisness breaks out. For now, we can still read their book. Thank you, this has been Where are they Now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned, next week on the program, Where are they now: Waldo, who the hell knows?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-115194350925911703?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/115194350925911703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=115194350925911703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115194350925911703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/115194350925911703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/07/where-are-they-now-12-disciples.html' title='Where Are They Now?  The 12 Disciples Edition'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-113614429534346963</id><published>2006-01-01T11:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-18T17:14:05.476-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Great New Years Resolutions Of Adam Scharf</title><content type='html'>1. Stop Refering to myself as she.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Stop throwing objects at blind People to see if they are really blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Stop telling girls how much I think they weigh when I meet them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Stop asking the judge where the white people sit in court.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Make Ryan Seacrest stop doing new Years&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Stop bowing every time a chinease person walks in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Name my kids Mom and Dad to confuse people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Invent A Walkmen Nano and put it on the Market.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Continue To give a sympathy Clap to any Kid who is in Last place in a Track or swimming Race.  We Need to let them know that we appreciate them racing and that they suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Stop calling my black freinds Colored People&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Stop getting Dissapointed when I make a sand castle on quick sand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Hire a Narrator to Narrate My actions when I am a loss for words&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-113614429534346963?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/113614429534346963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=113614429534346963' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113614429534346963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113614429534346963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2006/01/great-new-years-resolutions-of-adam.html' title='The Great New Years Resolutions Of Adam Scharf'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-113147183312332115</id><published>2005-12-08T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T08:39:04.276-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions that need to be answerd part 2</title><content type='html'>I have suceeded in compiling even more questions for the human mind to ponder, please take careful consideration with these ones, these are my deep thoughts, so without further adu,  Questions that need to be answered part 2...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Do race horses even know they are racing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  During the Salem Witch trials, if they where really witches couldnt they have just broken free?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Do nudist use the expression, " who wears the pants in this family"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  If Superman has super speed, why doesent he just use that everytime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do gay men really like men, cause come on, a man is nothing more than an ugly women right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Does the Pope ever piss in the woods?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Should I wear a T-shirt that doesnt say, " Save a horse, ride a cowboy", but replace it with, " Save a horse, ride in a car you slut".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Can bears stop breaking out of zoos? lets have some fun animals, like the peguins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  If there was such thing as a time travel device, shouldnt they be coming back to our time soon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. When will Micky Mouse go through puberty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. How is Bob Barker still alive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. When will rappers realize that their bling is nothing more than Jewlery?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Will people stop saying a first date is like a job interview? Because thats just stupid, I dont end up naked at a job interview, then again I dont end up naked on a &lt;br /&gt;date either?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. If priest Molest a Altar boy, does he become an Altar Man?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-113147183312332115?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/113147183312332115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=113147183312332115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113147183312332115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113147183312332115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/12/questions-that-need-to-be-answerd-part.html' title='Questions that need to be answerd part 2'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-113183600295245639</id><published>2005-11-27T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-27T17:42:09.626-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do people love me?</title><content type='html'>Why do people love me, a simple question that boggles your imagination, how is this guy so great?  Well its most likey because of a few reasons.  Maybe its because when im in a fight I run away screaming Im not worth it.  Maybe its my sexual catch phrase, " once you go Adam you never go back".  Or it could be me constanly saying girl power to myself when I suceed.  It could be the first words that I say to girls, " I have herpes".  It could also be the times when a girl leans in to kiss me and I say, " Its happening, its finally happening, I cant belive this, im going to kiss a girl, its happening, Im the luckiest boy around, by the way I have Herpes".  Maybe its due to my perfect physical physique and natural man musk which drives women crazy, or maybe cause I pay them to hang out with me so people think im not gay.  Either way you look at it, Im damn good.      &lt;br /&gt;                                                     Yours,&lt;br /&gt;                                                     Adam Scharf&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-113183600295245639?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/113183600295245639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=113183600295245639' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113183600295245639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113183600295245639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/11/why-do-people-love-me.html' title='Why do people love me?'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112899388877940633</id><published>2005-11-17T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-17T14:01:49.233-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks Giving Prayer</title><content type='html'>OH lord,&lt;br /&gt;We sit here, In thankfulness, on this Wonderful day that you have given birth to.  Now we must reflect on your genorosity through thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all oh mighty one, thank you for my blessed family, I could ask for no better, also thank you for this house.  Also thank you for The Indians, by the way, sorry for killing everyone of you.  Also thank you lord for the beautifull images that are painted everywhere on this great Earth.  Such as Flowers, Trees, Babbling brookes, and a gracefull deer Lying peacfully in A windshield.  &lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making me feel like a Jedi every time I walk into motion censored doors.  Thank you for the years I kept mixing up my street address by thinking the Dr, was for Docter.  Thank you for the way birds seem to always poop on me, thank you for the times I was getting a hair cut, and I thought the Barber was talking to me, but was actually talking to someone else, boy I looked liked an idiot. Thank you for the great time I had in Europe, the beaches where amazing, I espically enjoyed all the naked walks on what I thought where Nude beaches.  Thank you lord for that great moment when I got my Drivers lisence and shouted, " LOOK OUT WORLD, HERE I COME", and then ran over a Nun.  Thank you for those ghetto kids who wear Jeans even if its 103 degrees out.  Thank you for the child hood phobia of Flesh eating goats.  Thank you for my failed invention of water flavored bubble gum.  Thank you for the kids who are not funny and you find yourself fake laughing so they dont feel bad.  Thank you for overweight aerobic instructers.  Thank you for white kids who think they are being black my simply wearing sean John apparel.  Thank you lord, for watching us night and day, judging everything we do, and what we say, telling us how to do things, and sending us to hell for an eternity of punishment if we do not follow , I love you too.  Thank you for eskimos, Zukini bread, and the kid who says duck for twenty minutes in every duck duck goose game.  Thank you lord, for this food, which I had to pay and cook for.  By the way, Mel gibson sucks, thank you fot that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                           Amen..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112899388877940633?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112899388877940633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112899388877940633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112899388877940633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112899388877940633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/11/thanks-giving-prayer.html' title='Thanks Giving Prayer'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-113062773190078624</id><published>2005-10-29T16:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-07T12:23:01.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Love Poem</title><content type='html'>Dear Rebecca,&lt;br /&gt;I write you on our 1 week aniversary, for the speacial occasion I composed a beautiful love poem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;strong&gt;Our love is good, by me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our love is so strong and sweet&lt;br /&gt;like when I make you smell my feet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are more beautiful then a Rose&lt;br /&gt;But you do have a big nose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we met, I didn't know what to say&lt;br /&gt;So I asked you how much you weigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can come over any day&lt;br /&gt;cause it makes me look like I'm not gay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can be sure im a winner&lt;br /&gt;and you can always make me dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first date we ate on deck&lt;br /&gt;I even let you pay the check&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im with you cause I think your funny&lt;br /&gt;plus you do have a lot of money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make your Mom call me Mister&lt;br /&gt;I also am dating your younger sister&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ill give you all that love can lend&lt;br /&gt;Ill even try getting with your friend&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But know that I love you forever&lt;br /&gt;that is until I get back together&lt;br /&gt;with Heather&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Chester Smith&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.s  The flowers are for your sister&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-113062773190078624?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/113062773190078624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=113062773190078624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113062773190078624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/113062773190078624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/10/love-poem.html' title='A Love Poem'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112955958511374904</id><published>2005-10-17T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-01T12:26:45.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Charles The Actor</title><content type='html'>Charles was a simple man, with simple features, with a simple personality.  Charles was very easy to like, charming personality, with awful talent.  Charles was an actor.  At first, acting to Charles was just trying not to cough for a long period of time, but he then realized he can be good at this.   Charles dove himself into workshops and lessons.  Teachers labled Charles as the worst actor of all time so, Charles started to do some thinking about acting.   One day he just had an epiphany, "  Wait, I get it, I get acting, I should just pretend to be another person on stage. Yea, and I'll say all of the lines in the script for that person'.  After that idea hit him, more jobs followed,  he landed a commercial that had to do with baby food, he quit however because every time he would say, " Gerber baby food, does your baby right", the baby in his hands would puke all over him. &lt;br /&gt;         &lt;br /&gt;       Charles also fell into the drug phase.  Often he when he would try to park near the set, he would slam on the break skid five feet, hit a Kid,  run over a mail box, which flew into a oil truck, that set aflame, the explosion spun Charles into a 740; he then crashed over a bridge, fell onto a nearby fairy, the fairy sunk, the tide brought the car in,  a massive whale tail rocketed Charles on the street upside down, which then he few up a ramp, on a roof.  Then fell into a cement trunk.  The cement trunk hit him into Wall of the set and he said, " Like a Glove".   At many of his premieres he would make outrages Entrances, on many occasions he would gallop in on a large white horse named Misty.   Such outrageous stunts as these, portrayed poor Charles as a cocky self righteous man.   All of Charles acting deals seemed to fade away into oblivion.  To gain back some publicity for his demeaning career.  Charles sought to film his own celebrity Sex movie, but many did not download it.   Charles wasn't much of a celebrity, plus it seemed as if it was scripted due to Charles saying, " OH my gosh,  This is so random, I cant belief you are taping this, Me Charles, ( looks at camera), having sex, IM going to leave this in a easily found place so people can post it on the internet".  It turns out no one even cared to break in his house for it.  Charles then left in outside on the street.  Still no one noticed it, so Charles ended up putting it on the internet himself( still no one cared).  He then had the bright idea to get married 34 times in one day.  Charles thought he would do what many celebritiess do, adopt a baby.  Charles thought he adopted a beautiful young boy. the adoption agengcy said he wasent a good fit, so Charles decided to go get one himself.  He travled to mexico and brought back a baby boy,apparently that was illegal, so he then just payed a midget named rick to pretend to be his baby. &lt;br /&gt;                   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     At the age of Forty he was on the move and as cocky as ever.  He recieved the following roles.  A spoon in Beauty and the Beast.  He played Ronald McDonald for their commercials, but was fired because Charles kept reading it very dramatic and scaring the kids.  ( shouting )" Come to McDonald's, the finest in the land, ( dramatic crying) I beg of you on my life, please come to McDonalds".  He also was hired to the African American Theater Company, but was fired on his first day due to him calling the director colored person.  &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     As his age grew, so did his stupidity, he would spend his money without thinking.  He purchased a sweat shirt made of Cat hair.  His love life was also not in good shape.  Charles with the fear of being alone forever, began to study love films for advice.  Charles would often walk down the streets holding a lot of books and running into women, or if he was lazy he would simply just throw the books at them.  Sometimes Charles the actor would say crazy things to women, " IM a pirate", and would claim he was looking for treasure and ask if he could look around their chest.  As acting and love slipped away, he began some obscene hobbies, such as hunting, the only problem was he would hunt in the worst places( Pope states," lets make peace, and throws the doves out and one is quickly shot down, and then everyone hears Charles say, "GOT CHAAA").  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Charles knew to go back to acting, his heart was telling him to go back.  By the time he got out of jail for the shooting he was 63, and rusty.  He didn't have much money to attend any professional acting classes, instead he enrolled in Bob Sagettes Acting school.  The hopes of a rebirth looked slim, mainly because Charles would often finish a scene and forget he was on stage.  Sometimes he would start eating during shows, and just walking across the stage at random times.  Once he was on stage finished his scene and just started talking to his co-star.  It would appear his acting career was done, but Charles still had no clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     He kept going to every audition possible, but still no hits.  So Charles thought it would be a good idea to be on his own reality show called, " Hostage", where Charles would rob a bank, choose 17 lucky hostages at gun point, where each hostage would compete to see which one would be the, the ultimate hostage.  The pilot bombed, and Charles went to jail yet again.  This time the public took notice.  He made the cover of almost every Paper, every magezine, as well as being on the news for a week strait.  Charles watched himself on the news, from his lonely jail cell with his lovable, unpredictable cell mate, Rainbow.  Charles had a deep hunger to see his fans.  He wanted them to be satisfied with him.  He went the route that many prisoners do, he wrote a childrens book tittled, " Honey , I had sex with the dog".  The childrens book failed due to obvious reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Now with fame, Charles the Actor was happy.  As age 70 hit him, he was allowed to leave the prison.  With all new life ahead of him, and 2 fans left.  He embarked on a new acting career.  He landed the part of scrooge, he recieved rave reviews for every show.  Except the time Tiney Tim was talking to scrooge, and Charles once again forgot he was on stage and accidently pushed Tiney Tim after he called him a mean man, and Tiney Tim fell into the orchestra pit, to cover his mistake he kept pushing him in the pit for 6 shows strait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    After scrooge, Charles realized he was getting old, and no longer wanted to act, but live the rest of his life out.  Charles the actor later died at the age of 87, he died of a heart attack, I say he died of a deep void.  Never reaching legendary fame really struck Charles, but he lives on today, in our hearts, and our minds, and in the critically acclaimed sequel to, " Honey, I slept with the dog".  Entitled, " Honey our cat is pregnent".  So please, keep Charles in your heart, for this is a remarkable story about a actor who dident quite make it big, but Charles never knew the diference anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112955958511374904?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112955958511374904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112955958511374904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112955958511374904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112955958511374904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/10/charles-actor.html' title='Charles The Actor'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112906956097759184</id><published>2005-10-11T14:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T07:35:56.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Questions that need to be answered</title><content type='html'>In this world we have, questions that need to be answered( hey that's the title).  &lt;br /&gt;Im sorry for this rant of random questions, I am just upset, and I have a right to ask these questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Why do cyclist and runners always run on the road, do they not know theres a sidewalk next to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Fitty cent thinks he is ghetto, but does he realize he makes dance music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Do people really hate Bisexuals, or are they just jealous they have more chance of a date on Friday night?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Why do tough ghetto kids claim they are tough, but get upset when their shoes get dirty?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. How come people who lift weights always stick out their arms when they walk( apparently their muscles are so big they cant sway their arms normaly)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Why dont people who do metal detecting get a life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. How come they shot John Lennon, and not Yoko Ono?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Why is Paris Hilton Famous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Why did people say, " Eminem is such a great actor", when he played himself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.Why dont we all just use velcro shoes( curse you society)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.How did my freind mix up halle berry with Rosie Odanald in Mid sentence?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.Why am I so good looking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.Why do girls still insist they just want a guy with a good sense of humor?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.Why is there tax on water?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112906956097759184?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112906956097759184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112906956097759184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112906956097759184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112906956097759184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/10/questions-that-need-to-be-answered.html' title='Questions that need to be answered'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112855227132554679</id><published>2005-10-05T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-06T18:44:16.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions Of A Dirt bag CLOWN</title><content type='html'>( Man in clown costume at a AA metting addressing the Crowd)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         "Hello, My name is Fredrick the clown, and I have a problem,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose it all began in my childhood, I had a very Heathly relationship with my Parents, Espiaclly My dad,  He left a deep void in me when he Died.  I suppose I blame myself for his death, I Shot him.  The funeral was almost unbearable, espically when the very small clown Herse drove up to the cemetary and 30 of my Dads close freinds Poured out of the car, it was like a sad joke.  I also shot them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       During my Teens problems flourished at the sight of a poor CLown named Fredrick.  Kids always picked on me, They would call me names such as, Clown Freak, Nerd boy, it usally ended up with me walking away slowly honking my nose.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      In clown college I felt at home, I began to master my craft and make everyone laugh on the way.  I felt good, for the first time in my life, I , Fredrick the clown Felt Good.  That is untill I Graduated.  During my graduation When my name was called, I ACCIDENTLY Took the Dean and shoved him in a bag and shipped him to Cub .  After that, I worked in the circus for 2 years, I was fired for Repedaitly hitting the Ringmaster over the head every time he called my name.  I began to drink heavily, My career also took a visious blow, I was reduced to a Kids Birthday clown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      I would often drink when I was entertaining the kids, I was so drunk I would often show up Naked.   I would also shout random things like, " Hey kids, Im slightly Retarted", and," Hey boys and girls, How are you today, I have one  Testicle, how do you think I feel?".  Somtimes I would even Explain where babies come from, the parents dident like that either.  Occasionally I would Pursue face painting, that is untill I painted I suck, on many of the kids faces.  I was drunk most of the time, I wasent thinking you know, Some times I would hand out cards to the kids that said,           &lt;br /&gt;                                        HI Boys and girls&lt;br /&gt;                                        It sure is great&lt;br /&gt;                                        To see all of you&lt;br /&gt;                                        Happy Birthday Timmy&lt;br /&gt;                                        Im going to kill you&lt;br /&gt;                                                     -Love Fredrick the Clown&lt;br /&gt;                                           &lt;br /&gt;    Drinking was now a part of my Sad clown life,  It became obvious when Beer flew out of my Flower and went into little timmy's punch( he was never the same again).  My wife ended up leaving me, apparently she dident like it when I went to entertain her Nephews party and I kept Juggling their cats.  As you can see, Im a Sad Clown, and I need help, I need support, it would be nice to have somone there to tell me when IM urinating In my clown suit. It would be great for someone to be there when I Keep grabbing my croch and saying honk, mistanking it for my nose.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                        Im Fredrick the Clown, and I have a problem".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112855227132554679?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112855227132554679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112855227132554679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112855227132554679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112855227132554679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/10/confessions-of-dirt-bag-clown.html' title='Confessions Of A Dirt bag CLOWN'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112822010983584235</id><published>2005-10-01T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-11-15T07:25:50.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Failures</title><content type='html'>The failures in my life are staggering, releasing humiliation on a twisted soul, gathering up velocity to go right to my heart, and break me down, for now I think it is a right for the public to know, I am not the Man they think I am, and yes, I said Man, and I capatilized it too. So below are the failures that are masked by my good looks, charming personality, and good muscles...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had dreams, Dreams of becoming a great Mayor, but apparently no one liked my plan to enslave Mimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had dreams of finding love, but everytime a girl would lean in to kiss me I would say," oh my gosh, its actually happening, this is it, oh my, shes actually going to kiss me", and she dident like that much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to fight crime, but stopped after my side kick was eaten by a goat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I played basket ball for a while, but the team kicked me off due to everytime I scored a basket I would smile(Apparently you cant do that in basketball)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hired as a stripper at a local club, they fired me when I was with a girl( At least I hope it was a girl), apparently the lady I was talking dirty to dident like me saying," oh yea, I am sexy, oh yea im sexy.....ok not sexy, but im attractive, yea im attractive.....ok im not, but im good looking, oh yea, good looking all the way, ........well im not that either, im hansome oh yea, ok no, no, im cute, no wait im im, hey where are you going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a Forest guide once, I was fired for Riding a deer to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in a rock group for a while, but the group kicked me out because I kept trying to break my guitar for 36 minutes strait( it just wouldent break)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even tried to be a Vampire once but Misktakenly kept bitting other Vampires&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a pet dog for a while, it was eaten by the same goat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, my life is not what seems, drenched in sorrow, and pain, Plagued by Failures, so I am not the perfect Man( yes man) you see before you, or the Young chap who enjoys a round of golf and furry socks, no sir, I am human, and only human, now that I have taken of the mask, I have some simple request of my own.&lt;br /&gt;1. Gay people, stop parading, we get it already&lt;br /&gt;2. Black people, pull up your damn pants&lt;br /&gt;3. People who live in tornado alley, I just want you to know that I dont feel bad for you, just leave already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your time&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112822010983584235?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112822010983584235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112822010983584235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112822010983584235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112822010983584235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/10/my-failures.html' title='My Failures'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112743064772236910</id><published>2005-09-22T15:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-22T16:10:47.730-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wonderful Life Of Oliver Skiplet, By Adam Scharf</title><content type='html'>A hoy, My name is oliver, and this will be a pleasure to tell you about myself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was born at the age of 1, and was then adopted to a large native american family, my brothers where Fire Starter, Wind Maker, Earn rock, and chad.  When I was 7 I ran away to the circus, On my way I met a midget named Rick with a very large handlebar mustache, and enjoyed saltine crackers.  He had told me he used to be a famous philosopher, but was fired because everytime someone asked him if there was a god he would point to himself and whispher, " me". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; We joined the circus, the ring master said I would fit right in, due to my Baby tail still being on.  After the circus I worked on a Farm, but was fired for trying to teach a cow to milk itself.  I then went into a rouch stage,  I had no job, no money, and apparently Rick the midget died in a bizarre checkers accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  To cheer my self up, I would often wear silly costumes, mostly as a ghost.  I would put a silly white sheet over me, and walk down the streets of Harlem, I was stabbed many times.  Apparently they dont like ghost.  I then decided to get married, and have many other little Skiplets.  As the year went on, I dove more into religon, but stopped when i kept getting visions of Rick the Miget coming to me and saying, " IM GOD, AND I LIKE CRACKERS". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that phase I decided to go back to school, but was expelled for my cheoriographed westside story fights.  After that, I was becoming bored with life, so I then became a boxer, unnfortunatley i was asked to leave, due to every time they would start the fight, i would run away screaming, " IM NOT WORTH IT, IM NOT WORTH IT", and then follow that up with calling the Reff a savage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I then started to dive into drugs, I would often find myself waking up naked next to a Octopuss.  After that, I went back home, to my tribe.  Firestarter has grown much, he as three great sons, Jamal, shawntell, and Moesha.  After seeing those kids It came to me, I left my kids at home, and when I returned to them, I found a letter which read my kids where kidnapped, my only conclusion it was with one of my jealous octopusses,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh well, thats my life story....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112743064772236910?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112743064772236910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112743064772236910' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112743064772236910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112743064772236910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/09/wonderful-life-of-oliver-skiplet-by.html' title='The Wonderful Life Of Oliver Skiplet, By Adam Scharf'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112500089429111809</id><published>2005-08-25T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-25T13:14:54.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream transportation</title><content type='html'>I am now at the ripe age of 16, hansome, strong, charming, and now able to drive.  My dad was recently talking to me about what I would like to drive, he brought up, corvette, oldsmobile, and even toyota.  For me I could not accept any of those, cause I dont want to drive a car, what I really want is something cool, sleek, and fast, I want a hot air balloon, how awsome would that be going to school, but I know what your saying, " adam, istent that stupid, I mean, someone will steal that", yes my freinds I know, I have pondered that many times, and I have figured out a way to keep it safe, Im going to put a midget with a really large handle bar mustache in the basket.  And when someone comes over, he will jump out, even like a jack in the box, ill put springs on his feet.  How cool would it be picking up my prom date.  Cause you know they are all talking about you when your on your ride over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: ok sweety, are you sure about your date now, hes not a creep is he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leslie( we will call her that): oh yes daddy, hes the nicest guy, hes hansome , stong, charming, and able to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: well ok sweetie, I still want to have a talk with this man when he comes over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leslie: yes daddy, trust me , you will just love him, oh here he comes now ( points to sky)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I will proceed to ride in on my hot air balloon, with the midget on my shoulder waxing his large handle bar mustache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats my dream way of transportation....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112500089429111809?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112500089429111809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112500089429111809' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112500089429111809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112500089429111809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/08/dream-transportation.html' title='Dream transportation'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112301595990036530</id><published>2005-08-02T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-02T13:55:51.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts that entertain me</title><content type='html'>Here are some simple thoughts that have been entertaining me, I dont know why, they are quite stupid and pointless, neverless, I havent been able to stop thinking about them, so I figure I should just type them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chinese places- I am amazed about how fast the service is, I think every restaurant should be like them, its so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: umm hello, i would like a plate of sesamme chicken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chinease waiter: ( quick motion) like this ( holds a plate of sesame chicken)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: yea, exaclty, you know what would be good with this, a good glass of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chinease waiter:( pulls a glass out of no where) Pepsi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: yea yea, oh whats this, ( looks under the table to discover another chinease man doing his toe nails)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another chinease man: Hello( while filing his toe nails)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that has been on my mind is super heros, i love them........except Aqua man. He cant do anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Superman: Im going to go to metrapolis to stop a burning ware house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Batman: IM going to see what the riddler is up to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aqua man: ummmmm........im gonna,go swimming, cause thats the only thing I can do. ( puts toe in water, pulls it out quick) oh its kinda cold, I just ate anyway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does have some cool skills though, I would love to be able ot just like, jump out of the water like a dolphin, how cool would that be at your freinds pool. His mom walks out with snacks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: come on kids, I made snacks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: be right there ( fly out of water and land right next to her)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But having him in the justice leauge is like having, spiderman not be albe to shoot webs , its like him being able to shoot pickels out of his wrist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spider man: your going down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;VIllian: not this time spiderman( spider shoots pickles at him), ummmmmm,( sniffs them), what is ( licks them) oh man, did you just shoot pickles at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spiderman:.....................no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thought is animals, I dont know why, but the conversation where, every one tells eachotherwhat animal they would be always comes up, I dont know why,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jill: oh I would be a dog, cause they are so cute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elisha: I would be a bird, so I could fly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me on the other hand, i would be a sloth, no one suspects the sloth, I would  rob banks and burn buildings down, I can see it on the news&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;News anchor: This just in, The savings bank of sanger ave has justt been robbed, the only eye witness was the manager, he claims....a giant sloth came in and stole 34,000 dollars, he says the sloth was unarmed, yet he could shoot pickles out of his wrist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is, I want to start a new trend, like at a ice cream parlor, where when someone drops a ice cream, they dont say , " oh my goodddddd", instead, they say, " ohhhhh ZEAUS, ILL GET YOU".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well thats all.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112301595990036530?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112301595990036530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112301595990036530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112301595990036530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112301595990036530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/08/thoughts-that-entertain-me.html' title='Thoughts that entertain me'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-112084939083341279</id><published>2005-07-08T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-13T15:27:45.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Dream......</title><content type='html'>As I awoke, the alarm clock sang its song , come fly with me, by frank sinatra, I first realized two things. ONE, that i just had an amazing dream, SECOND, that I urinated on myself. I then began to ponder what a amazing dream I had. As I thought of the oustanding adventure, which I was a super hero in mexico, with my trusty all mexican side kick, John. We where dashing young muchachos, fighting crime . The hot mexican sun failed to slow our momentum, we pushed on hard, destroying all evil in our way, I even had time to fall in love with a beautifull senorita, i will never forget our last moment together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Senorita: No Me gusta&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: I love you to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then had to leave the villiage, for our deeds where done, we needed a form of transportation. I came up to a vender and asked him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ME: como te llama ( towards john), that means, do you have any llamas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vender: Pablo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vender: me llamo Pablo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: you are a llama named Pablo? Your sick buddy, reaalll sick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that breaf discussion we rode of, into the sunset, I then wizzed on myself, I shouted, " when evil returns , I will be here( shot my gun) to save you. ( John falls from horse dead)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-112084939083341279?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/112084939083341279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=112084939083341279' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112084939083341279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/112084939083341279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/07/dream.html' title='A Dream......'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111997504208119554</id><published>2005-06-28T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T07:34:12.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sassy men</title><content type='html'>As the world turns, more and more men, are becoming gay, some for the attention, some because they actually like it, and some cause they want a excuse to wax their eyebrows. I though, have a problem with some of the gays, not all of them, I have many gay freinds, but some just dont get it. &lt;strong&gt;Gay is a lifestyle, not a race, &lt;/strong&gt;what the hell is the whole parade thing about. Parades, they are great. They are meant to celebrate a holiday, or honor the dead, or the military, but gay men................what? Another thing, is the gay schools, there are schools just for gay kids( westside story). And another thing, i hate it when this happens&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: oh man, this is so gay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KID: hey, nooo, dont say that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kid: it can hurt their feelings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: oh really, Gay Gay gay, this is gay , thats gay, this shirt is gay, gay gay, your gay, im ga.........umm. this wall is gay, yea , the wall, not me, the wall. the one right here, ya know the...ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So once again, for all the gays who are parading, being gay is a life style, stop making it seem like a race! ( sorry if this offended anyone)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111997504208119554?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111997504208119554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111997504208119554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111997504208119554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111997504208119554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/06/sassy-men.html' title='Sassy men'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111953781878652291</id><published>2005-06-23T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T07:43:38.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>looking for a job...</title><content type='html'>So here is summer, came so quickly, and now I must find a job.  I dont know what to do though, ive often thought about fighting crime due to my superior muscle complex.  Or maby work in a chinease place, naww, chinease people creep me out, why?  Cause whenever you walk in there they always have that grin on their face, and then the converstation goes like this.&lt;br /&gt;chinease man: oh , how are you today sir, you sit her , ok?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: yea ok&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chinease man: ( to other chinease man) da to naga sowie pun na la tore( evil grin)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: ...........what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another reason they creep me out cause in chinease places why do they have american paintings up on the wall, i always feel like they are looking through the painting at me,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: umm waiter, why is  mona lisas eyes so squinty in this painting,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;waiter: ummmmm, she looking in sun......yea....she looking in sun when the painting was taken( turns to other waiter) to do la muca naca ( evil laugh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: .....what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ok, forget about chinease people, maby I can work in the woods, like as a guide, yea, ive always had a fantasy about being in the woods, I would ride a dear around named oliver, and we would .......wait a  minute, I got it, I would ride a deer around named oliver , we would fight crime in chinese restaurants in the woods.........excellent&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111953781878652291?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111953781878652291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111953781878652291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111953781878652291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111953781878652291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/06/looking-for-job.html' title='looking for a job...'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111895941638613485</id><published>2005-06-16T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-16T15:03:36.390-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear Factor</title><content type='html'>As I scan the tv late at night, I come across a little show called fear factor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fear factor- this show is annoying, why you ask?  Ill tell ya why.  Because the contestants still act surprised when they have to eat something gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contestant: wait what, i have to eat pig rectum?!( DUHH YOU IDIOT, ITS FEAR FACTOR!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean the show has been on for a couple of years now, everyone who is on the show these days have seen the show many times, these people know what the show entails.  It bothers me even more when they quit a stunt, and walk away frome it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contestant: Wait, I cant do this, im not eating spiders and cockroaches in a blender, ( THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE, DID YOU THINK THEY WERE JUST NOT GOING TO DO IT THIS TIME?!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111895941638613485?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111895941638613485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111895941638613485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111895941638613485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111895941638613485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/06/fear-factor.html' title='Fear Factor'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111852677288822781</id><published>2005-06-11T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-11T14:52:52.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not in anger</title><content type='html'>As I saw the tv today, I came across a info comercial about a guy who makes paddles to spank your kids, it reads on the paddle,   &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;NOT IN ANGER &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.  Wait a minute... &lt;strong&gt;SPANK KIDs WHEN YOUR HAPPY! &lt;/strong&gt;Im pretty sure you need to be mad in the first place in order to even want to spank your kids, whos the sick child pedefile who thought of this one.......................michael jackson anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Michael Jackson&lt;/strong&gt;: oh boy, i have a wonderfull idea ( in classic Michael Jackson voice)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: well what is it mr jackson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mj&lt;/strong&gt;: we can make paddles for people to sell, to spank their kids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: well im pretty sure thats not good these days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mj&lt;/strong&gt;: oh know, not like that, just put on the paddle, Not in Anger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: brilliant , simply brilliant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mj&lt;/strong&gt;: and we can have info commercials&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: yes yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mj&lt;/strong&gt;: and pamflets on how to do it so your not hurting them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: oh execellent, excellent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mj&lt;/strong&gt;: and i can make a instructtional video about how to do it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: ummm possibly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MJ&lt;/strong&gt;: ( on a roll now with ideas) yea yea, thats good ,and then we can tell them to take pictures of parents spanking their kids, and send them into me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: ......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mj&lt;/strong&gt;: what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Executive&lt;/strong&gt;: ......( Gares at him)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mj&lt;/strong&gt;: ( Glares back)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Awkward silence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it may have not been like that, but hey. So parents around the world, i guss start spanking your kids, and not in anger, make sure you are happy, and why not frolic around the house with the paddle, wave to your kids with it, im sure they are going to wave back and run screaming out of the house in a fit of joy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111852677288822781?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111852677288822781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111852677288822781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111852677288822781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111852677288822781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/06/not-in-anger.html' title='Not in anger'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111732727566201921</id><published>2005-05-28T17:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-28T17:41:15.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jesus and Pals</title><content type='html'>People often think about how jesus died, and three days later he rose and went to heaven.  Thats all interesting and what not, but most people dont ever think about the guys who killed Jesus.  It is said that jesus forgave them all, so they must of went to heaven.  Do you realize how awkward that had to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #1: oh well Mike, we are finally here, we made it to heaven&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #2: i hear ya bud, its been a long time, lot of weird stuff ya know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier#1:(interupts) ummmmm mike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier#2: I just am glad we did everything right, we sure went through alot together&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #1: Mike dude, Mike, Mike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier#2: ya know, im glad i was with you pal, ya know the whole crucifying thing, im glad we dont have to deal with that stuff anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier#1: Mike!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #2: WHAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #1:  your not going to belive this, but look whos standing at 3:00&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #2: who is it , I cant see that far&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #1: ( stares in shock)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #2: oh come on! just tell me who it is, i mean god , are you twelve, Jeessuuuss christ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier: #1: It sure is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #: oh no, it cant be, but i thought he wasent the son of god, oh crap hes coming this way, oh no oh no, act cool dude act cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus: oh , wait... it cant be, oh i dont belive it, i havent seen you guys in forever, ya know, since( acts like on the cross)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #1: yea i know, ummm ... sorry about that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crusifier #2: yea we dident really mean it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jesus: oh yea, ya know what, lets just forget about the whole thing ok, its not like people will remeber you forever as the ones that killed jesus christ, son of the one and only God...Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111732727566201921?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111732727566201921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111732727566201921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111732727566201921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111732727566201921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/jesus-and-pals_28.html' title='Jesus and Pals'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111681049989718676</id><published>2005-05-22T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-22T18:08:19.900-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bullies</title><content type='html'>Every school has one, every school needs one, its as if schools need bullies to feel like school. Which makes me wonder, is this true?, are there bullies in every school every made? Then I thought, ofcourse. But then I began to ponder of different kinds of schools. Did you know that there are schools for gays only. That's right, a gay highschool. At first I thought great, maybe now they can escape their tortures of the everyday public highschool plague, but is there a gay bully? Does he take your juice money and then pluck your eyebrows. Does he pants you and then... Well we wont get into that. Also there are many dancing schools. Is there a dancing bully(refer to ten truths #2)? I have often wondered what it would be like to be a bully myself. Sometimes I dream about it. I think I would be called brutis. I would hold the best Indian burn on the east coast. So one day I went up to the rap punk music kinda people( they pick on a lot of kids) and below is the dialogue, I guss I just don't fit in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoodlum # 1: yo braw what's goin on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: why hey there fellas, im from the streets( newhartford ghetto?), so what are you up to today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoodlum # 2: well we are going to jump Tony( it seems that the rap group kids are always planning to jump somebody)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoodlum # 1: yea son, we gonna jump tony good too&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: isn't tony a little too tall for that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( I was then pounded to a bloody pulp)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111681049989718676?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111681049989718676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111681049989718676' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111681049989718676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111681049989718676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/bullies.html' title='Bullies'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111655118990817643</id><published>2005-05-19T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-19T18:06:29.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Senior Pranks that are not good ones</title><content type='html'>Every year, it comes to that certain time in a seniors life when he and his fellow class mates have the duty and unbearable pressure of creating the ultimate senior prank. Sure there have been a few good ones, great even. But there are the ones that just don't seem to work...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Kidnapping The Janitor and leaving a randsom note on his mop- though it may seem like a good one, its actually illegal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Trapping all the gays in the school in a closet( ironic, I know)- this is just too mean to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Kidnap lunch ladies( or as I like to call them, food distributors...Its less harsh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well i dont know anyother bad ones, if i get some more, ill put them up, for now thats it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111655118990817643?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111655118990817643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111655118990817643' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111655118990817643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111655118990817643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/senior-pranks-that-are-not-good-ones.html' title='Senior Pranks that are not good ones'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111610415823887165</id><published>2005-05-14T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-14T13:55:58.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alcoholic Neighbor</title><content type='html'>We all know someone who is drunk all the time, and cant go a day without drinking a few beers. Well one of them is my neighbor, well I know what you are saying, " Adam that is mean"( kinda weird if you were thinking that). But its true. For example, There we were, me and my sister cat( no she isn't a actual cat...Or is she?), trying to shovel the drive way after a horrible snow storm, we were cold, tired, hungry, and cold. And who comes to the rescue? No other than my alcoholic neighbor. He is all dressed in wintery clothes. Big jacket, and big winter cap which fits firmly around his head. Now IM thinking, here is a great man, comes to help a couple of kids shoveling, so then he does it, he does the drive way, but in the middle of it is where i realize that this guy isen the most sane or dependeble guys, who does need some help. He takes off his winter Hat, and what is under the hat to my amazement.........A beer can.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111610415823887165?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111610415823887165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111610415823887165' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111610415823887165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111610415823887165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/alcoholic-neighbor.html' title='Alcoholic Neighbor'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111602840371611049</id><published>2005-05-13T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-13T16:53:23.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ultimate Joke of all time</title><content type='html'>Why did the plane crash?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the pilot was a piece of wood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;( Good , no, but completely random ,  Yes)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111602840371611049?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111602840371611049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111602840371611049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111602840371611049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111602840371611049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/ultimate-joke-of-all-time.html' title='The ultimate Joke of all time'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111534424805093486</id><published>2005-05-05T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-05T18:50:48.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Utensil , by adam scharf</title><content type='html'>( &lt;em&gt;A man dressed as a spoon tells a director about his past while in an audition)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its tough coming out of a largely succesfull character such as a spoon.  In my highschool musical i played the intenst role, and maby the most magical character, of a utensil, for i was a spoon.  It seems directors cant tear me away from my role, i am being typecast everywhere i go.  Maby its the fact that I studied 3 months in Austria to prepare, or maby cause my sheer talent bombared the stage in a festaval of inspirational talent.  The world may never know, but one things for sure, my ability to act will not be bogged down by my past roles, dont get me wrong though, i enjoyed the spoon character.  It unlocked my inner spoon being.  This character inspired me culturely in many ways, i wrote my first book, called,   SPOON OF A LIFE TIME, and a musical album named,  SPOON COMES ALIVE, I also had taught many yoga classes, in hopes that one day the rest of the world will unlock their inner spoon as well.  So as you can see , i am the perfect man for your play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Director: yea thankyou, well keep in touch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For whenever you look at a spoon, think of me, for i graced the stage as a magical metal object singing and dancing once, simple as that, but now i am famous, and i will be a big draw in to the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111534424805093486?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111534424805093486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111534424805093486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111534424805093486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111534424805093486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/utensil-by-adam-scharf.html' title='The Utensil , by adam scharf'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111515207509462992</id><published>2005-05-03T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-03T13:27:55.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Pets</title><content type='html'>Never really had the traditional family pets growing up, like a dog, cat, elephant. Instead we had some fishes, lobster and rabbits. I was scared to death of the lobster, I was sure it was playing with my toys when I went to school.( I came to this conclusion as when I drove away on the bus the lobster waved to me from my room) The rabbits were another thing, the two rabbits we had were fun at first, they were to healthy male rabbits, until they turned gay. ( I came to this conclusion when I went to feed them and one was in a cop outfit, the other as a construction worker) Ofcourse we all had absurd ideas for pets when we were little, a lizard, or a dragon, hahhahah that's just silly, a lizard, I mean honestly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111515207509462992?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111515207509462992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111515207509462992' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111515207509462992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111515207509462992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/family-pets.html' title='Family Pets'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111508333987910190</id><published>2005-05-02T18:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-02T18:22:19.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sports according to Adam</title><content type='html'>Sports, a funny thing when I was younger, I used to love them, now I dont like them that much, why? well first off theres basketball.  The only game my dad ever came to, (he gets out of work even) and i screw it up.  There i was, on the court.  The ball is passed to me, i shoot( underhand) towards the basket, it goes in.( secret rule about basketball that they dont tell you, when you make a basket you have to act cool, as if you knew it was going to go in, and you dont care that you scored)  As i saw that ball go in, i was amazed, shocked even.  So i screamed, " yayyy, yes, i did it, alright( thumbs up), that was for you dad, ( point to dad).  As i celebrate a fellow teamate comes up to me and says this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teamate: uhhh adam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: yea, i did it i know arent you proud( smiling like a idiot)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teamate: no, it was the wrong basket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: what&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As i look up to my dad, every one is sitting down except him, just him standing up, looking at me.( some of that is fictional, but it sounds good)   so my basket ball days were over, now baseball, a diferent animal, i am proud to say i only hit 3 balls i think( no it wasent tee ball).  Then theres soccer, I was a sharp shooter, ( the only goal i made was when the goalie tripped and it went it)&lt;br /&gt;well thats how sports turned sour, so now i am trying new ones, &lt;strong&gt;Track&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111508333987910190?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111508333987910190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111508333987910190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111508333987910190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111508333987910190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/sports-according-to-adam.html' title='Sports according to Adam'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111498372112811782</id><published>2005-05-01T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T14:42:01.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ten Truths I Have realized about Highschool</title><content type='html'>1.  School is full of clicks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. when you are in a school yard fight, you cant dance like in west side story( found out the hard way)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. girls only date jocks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.Theres always that one kid who has beard( i want that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.there will always be a girl who comes in to school and tells how drunk she got&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.Fat kids will always be the first out in dodge ball( its mean i know)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Armadillos are not allowed in school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Gays are always picked on( when will men be able to wax their eyebrows in peace?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Kids will try to make themselves look as ugly as possible to be rebelious( i tried this once, apparently washable tat toos are not in)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  steroids are necesary to do well in varsity( May i recomend Flintstones vitamins)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111498372112811782?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111498372112811782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111498372112811782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498372112811782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498372112811782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/ten-truths-i-have-realized-about.html' title='The Ten Truths I Have realized about Highschool'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111498224055921515</id><published>2005-05-01T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T14:17:20.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>American Poetry</title><content type='html'>aint straight I'm livin where its hot and sandyAnd the Benz's complexion is cotton candyI bounced up, thats the best partYou niggas don't know what pain isThe only scar on ya body's a stretch mark&lt;br /&gt;                                                     -fitty cent, a true american poet, this is the poetry that makes    grown men weep&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111498224055921515?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111498224055921515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111498224055921515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498224055921515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498224055921515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/american-poetry.html' title='American Poetry'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111498103973372070</id><published>2005-05-01T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T13:57:19.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.haloscan.com/" title="HaloScan Commenting and Trackback"&gt;Haloscan&lt;/a&gt; commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111498103973372070?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111498103973372070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111498103973372070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498103973372070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498103973372070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/haloscan-commenting-and-trackback-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12578429.post-111498042344364283</id><published>2005-05-01T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-01T13:47:03.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids taking test</title><content type='html'>I have realized something, there is always a kid in school, who when he is done with a test, makes  a point of telling everyone, he usually slams his pencil on the desk and goes, " hey im done", and then he goes up to the teacher and says, "hey where do i put it, cause im done", but he knows where to put it.............Random thought i guss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/12578429-111498042344364283?l=adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/feeds/111498042344364283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=12578429&amp;postID=111498042344364283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498042344364283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/12578429/posts/default/111498042344364283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamdangerscharf.blogspot.com/2005/05/kids-taking-test.html' title='Kids taking test'/><author><name>Adam</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01445620889584378104</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
